


You and me at the end times

by fightlikeagirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fightlikeagirl/pseuds/fightlikeagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam feels as though Lucifer's drowning him and holding him afloat all at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and me at the end times

_And I believe  
California succumbed to the fault line  
We heaved relief  
As scores of innocents died_  
—"Calamity Song", The Decemberists

Sam's halfway to sleep when he feels cool fingertips on his back, sliding up under his shirt and tracing letters, sigils. He's far enough from consciousness that he sighs and presses back into the touch without thinking, but the rough chuckle and curl of warm breath huffed against his ear wakes him up quickly enough.

"Go away." It doesn't come out as strong as he means it to. He tries to move away, but Lucifer's hand slides over his hip, holding him there, and Sam stills, not quite able to bring himself to move. 

He exhales shakily and tries again. "Leave me alone."

Lucifer sighs, the sound regretful. "I'm sorry, Sam. I understand that this is hard for you—"

Sam snaps. He sits up, shoving Lucifer's hand away. "Like hell you understand," he snaps. "You don't know the first thing about me—"

Lucifer shushes him with a finger pressed gently to Sam's lips. "I understand you better than you realize," he says, placing a hand in the middle of Sam's chest and pushing him back down, and Sam finds himself letting him. "I told you, we were made for each other," he says, pushing Sam's shirt up and moving to straddle his hips. "Did you think you were only a means to an end? You're special, Sam. You and I were meant to be together." His hands resume their roaming, and Sam can't help but feel like a terrain that Lucifer's exploring, memorizing to map out later. 

He turns his head away, unwilling to face the intensity of Lucifer's gaze. He doesn't mean it as an invitation, but it must read as one, because Lucifer leans down to press his mouth to Sam's neck, sucking a bruise there.

"I'm sick of hearing about how fucking special I am," Sam says, still looking away. "For once in my life, I just want—"

This time Lucifer silences him by pressing their lips together, his tongue slipping inside to explore Sam's mouth. "You want to be normal, I know, I know," he breathes against Sam's mouth. "Don't you think that line's getting old?"

"What—"

"You know what I'm talking about," he says impatiently. "We can be straightforward with each other here, there's no one to impress. You've tasted power before. You've glimpsed what I can give you, and you're not going to settle for normal, not in the end. I _know_ you, Sam. I know you want this."

"You're pretty sure of yourself."

"Yes," Lucifer says simply. "I am."

Sam sighs, turning his head back as Lucifer threads a hand through his hair, fingers tangling in the shorter hair at his neck. This time he's the one who opens his mouth to let Lucifer in, closing his eyes as the other nips at his lower lip. Lucifer kisses like he's fighting a war, all sharp edges, like Sam's a country to be invaded and plundered, and distantly Sam feels like this should bother him more than it does. He tastes of smoke and his mouth is far hotter than any human, a sharp contrast to how cold his skin always is. He trails small kisses along Sam's hairline and down his neck before pulling his shirt up and all the way off. Sam shivers as a breeze hits his bare skin, and he can't help but notice that they're not exactly on equal ground here—he's down to just his boxers, while Lucifer hasn't even shed the old olive overshirt.

But Lucifer knows just how to distract him, despite his best efforts to cling to something, anything, other than the soft, terrible voice whispering in his ear—

"I care about you, Sammy—I know what's best for you—" 

—punctuated with a roll of his hips that has Sam biting back a gasp—

"No one understands you like I do, no one else is even _capable_ of understanding—"

—and it's terrible that he can't stop himself from responding, can't even feel anything right now but shameful, needy _want_ as Lucifer's hand dips into his waistband, circling his cock and stroking—

_Stop it_ , he wants to say, but the words stick in his throat, chased away by the heat of Lucifer's tongue, and he's gasping into Lucifer's mouth instead, arching his back—

"Please," he manages to grit out, and he doesn't even know what he's asking, but Lucifer seems to understand, speeding up his strokes and smirking in a way that makes him want to die, until Lucifer's holding him as he shudders through his release.

They lie there together, Sam and the devil. He has his face pressed into Lucifer's neck, who's resumed stroking his back with one hand, those cool fingertips still making him shudder. The other hand is buried in Sam's hair, and he hasn't stopped his whispering, a heady mix of love, devotion, and threats, though Sam's stopped paying attention to the words. His stubble is rough against Sam's ear.

"I can't do this," Sam says quietly, mutters into the chill of Lucifer's skin. "I can't just—get up, get on living like this, like everything's normal and fine—"

Lucifer adjusts the hand in his hair, holding Sam tighter, like the world's about to end at any second. "So don't," he murmurs. "Stop fighting this. Let me in."

Sam makes a noise like a choked-off sob. "I _can't_ ," he says, "I have to be _better_ than that—"

"You think the world doesn't owe you this one, after all this time?" Lucifer demands. "Let me do this for you, Sam, let me take care of you. You're not weak for this, you've never been weak. You're so strong, Sam, so beautiful, but it breaks my heart to see you break yourself apart over a world that doesn't even deserve you. They're not worthy of you." He drags Sam's head up and kisses him fiercely, and it's too much, it's far too much.

"I will destroy every last one of them, Sam, and I will do it all for you," he says. "Because you are the only thing worth saving on this flawed, messy planet."

"Stop it," Sam begs. "I'm not, I'm not anything like that."

"Oh Sam," he says, and he sounds heartbroken. "You don't even see how beautiful you are, do you?" He tucks Sam's head under his chin, wraps his arms around him, and Sam feels as though Lucifer's drowning him and holding him afloat all at the same time. He continues, voice determined, "You will let me in, Sam Winchester, and I will save you."


End file.
